


The Kissing Game

by EllesAlwaysWriting



Series: OT12 Archives [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 14:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20779934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllesAlwaysWriting/pseuds/EllesAlwaysWriting
Summary: Sehun becomes obsessed with pepero and makes it Lay's problem to fix.





	The Kissing Game

**Author's Note:**

> 1/??? of a miscellaneous collection of oneshots and drabbles I found in the nostalgic depths of my EXO folder. All works were written between July 2013 - August 2015 and featuring all twelve original EXO members in one way or another.
> 
> Originally written in August of 2014, this oneshot was inspired by Sehun & Yixing's infamous pepero kiss and Sehun's obnoxiously red "FUCK" sweatshirt.

To say Yixing was exhausted would be both a vast understatement and, in his eyes, even a bit of an annoyance.

Because truth be told, Yixing felt he’s always been constantly exhausted. It was more of a character trait than an observation, really. He found many aspects of his daily life to be overwhelming exhausting: singing, dancing, interviews, public appearances, management meetings, performances, basic human socializing, etc. But that by no means implies that he doesn’t enjoy every second of it. Exhaustion was normal, reassuring, expected. Exhaustion was a very, very good thing, in his opinion. It meant he was working as hard as his body would allow him. With a seemingly solar-powered battery (charged by his own sunny disposition) and the patience of a monk, Yixing found battling constant physical and mental fatigue a little easier every day, despite simple interactions still causing his heart to skip beats & his face to flush embarrassingly fast. He’s admittedly shy, hopelessly confused most of the time, and sometimes so immersed in thought that he misses entire chunks of conversations and sets of instructions completely. It’s as if his brain begins to buffer as his connection becomes too weak and suddenly he’s silently trying to recall how to form expressions while the world surges on without him. The fans have even branded him EXO-M’s “.jpeg representative” because of it, which they actually sight as a part of his charm. Lu Han says he can now recognize the exact moment he begins to space out after rooming with him for so long. The other members seem to find it just as endearing as the fans do, picking up to answer questions he missed for him with an amused chuckle.

Today it seems even more exaggerated, though, as Yixing struggled to stay focused during a meeting with their management team, only jolting to life when Jongin suggested giving his solo dance to him during their next showcase. He sheepishly refused, but it’s a bit too quiet and delayed because everyone else was already tripping over compliments and suggesting he perform the routine that got him crowned EXO’s Dancing King on Weekly Idol a few weeks ago. The steps were already perfectly melded into his memory, but the pressure of performing it on stage has his stomach twisted in a nervous knot for the entire day. So, here he is, camped out in the SM training room, alone, running through the steps for the 10th or 11th…15th time? He had stopped counting. Headphones in and song clip on repeat, he continued to practice after the other members had gone to dinner, promising himself to take a break after every round, yet forgetting it by the end of the song’s rotation. Junmyeon came in twice, startling him the first time with an innocent tap, and nearly getting backhanded in the face the second time. He’d wave an item of food in his face playfully, urging him to come and join the group in the cafeteria, and only got a shy smile & an empty promise in return.

Ten minutes after Junmyeon exited the studio with a hopeful grin, he finally thought to check the clock and make sure he hadn’t accidentally missed the van back to the dorm (it wouldn’t be the first time). He pulls the bill of his fitted cap down, raising it off his head to scratch absentmindedly at the back of his scalp. His hair is soaked; sweat slipping down his neck and disappearing into the dark gray collar of his gray t-shirt. He glances around, finding the clock above the north wall of mirrors. He still had about a half-hour until they had to head back home and get some well-deserved rest before another long day of rehearsal. He sighed, pulling out his earbuds and briefly pondering on the dumplings Junmyeon said he’d save for him as he yanked his uncomfortably damp top off and slung it over his shoulder. _Kyungsoo probably already devoured those_, he concluded as he walked across the room and searched through his duffle bag for a clean shirt. He hears someone clear their throat from behind him, and assumes it’s the persistent leader once again, mumbling out an apology without turning.

“I know, I know, Jun-hyung, I’m sorry. I promise I’m coming down this time. Let me just –”

“Xing Xing-hyung…”

He swallows. Hard. To his left in the wall of mirrors is the reflection of a very un-Junmyeon-like figure in the door way, and he whips around quickly with a dry tank top clutched in his hands. “Oh.”

Yup. Definitely not Junmyeon.

“Yifan was worried about you not coming down for dinner and up here by yourself…”

Yixing’s sure that’s true, recalling how dramatically Yifan reacts to anyone refusing food (probably a side effect from being around Zitao so much), but something about the approaching boy’s tone suggests he really doesn’t give a shit what worries Yifan.

Unsurprising. Sehun has a talent for appearing to not give a shit nearly 24/7.

Nearly. He’s leaning a shoulder against the wall, looking entirely too long and lanky in those black joggers he swears he’s only worn twice this week, and that red sweatshirt that makes Seunghwan-hyung sputter out panicky rants about their ‘public image’ and ‘impressionable young fans’ every time he wears it…

_Fuck._

Yixing can relate.

It barely registers to Yixing that Sehun’s chewing something until he spots the plastic green pouch in his hand and hears the familiar little snap. His eyes flicker back up to Sehun’s mouth, chocolate Pepero biscuit running over his puckered lip suggestively as he rolls it between his thumb and index finger. He slides it flat against his tongue a few times before biting into it. Snap. He smirks as Yixing seems to jump at the tiny noise, chewing slowly as his eyes drift down…

Sehun’s smirk turns into a sort of devilishly wide smile, and Yixing turns back around to hide the blush spreading over his face as he realizes why Sehun’s gaze was traveling.

_Oh. Right. Still half-naked. _

And he’s never felt so naked in his life.

**_Fuck._ **

“Want some?” Sehun’s sitting on the arm of the couch but the time he gets the tank top over his head, pushing the pouch of Pepero towards Yixing’s face and shaking it invitingly. “I’ve never really liked them, but since we played that game in China I just can’t stop eating them…”

Yixing swallows again, trying not to look up at Sehun’s face as he cradles another biscuit between his lips.

Lots of things make Yixing nervous. Wooden roller coasters. Pools with no lifeguards. Airplane turbulence. Unfriendly-looking dogs. None of those things have shit on Oh Sehun. None of those things act as if their sole purpose in life is to make Yixing nervous as hell for no reason.

Sehun’s aware of the damning effect he has on Yixing, too, which makes it about a thousand times worse. He’s quite fond of his ability to rile Yixing up just by looking at him a certain way and leaving him flustered without a single word. Sehun makes fear & arousal go hand-in-hand and enjoys every single bit of it. Yixing had hoped it was just a phase, seeing how Sehun seems to shuffle his “favorite Hyung” every week or two. That hopefulness was soon forgotten, considering that he can always feel Sehun’s eyes on him, catching his glances and releasing them with a smirk, even when he’s hanging all over another member like a brand new coat.

“Xing Xing-hyung,” Sehun coos, placing a gentle hand on his bare shoulder. _Should have picked a t-shirt. Dammit._ He pretended the shudder down his spine was caused by the cool fingertips on his heated skin, and not the beckoning tone in Sehun’s voice as he giggled out, “you’re so tense…what’s wrong?”

He wanted to tell Sehun how sickeningly adorable that nickname sounded, but he knows how much Sehun despises being call anything similar to cute. “I’m fine, Sehun-ah. Just…tired…” He still hasn’t looked up at him, continuing to tussle around in his duffle bag mindlessly and hoping Sehun hasn’t made himself more comfortable on the couch next to him.

“Aww. Are you too tired to play with me, then?”

Yixing nearly chokes on his tongue as he stutters over a single syllable, “w-wha…what?”

Sehun’s hand moves up, slender fingers brushing behind his ear and Yixing jerks, shivering at the soft touches over the most sensitive area of his neck. Sehun chuckles shortly, taking the opportunity to pull him closer and Yixing finally turns to face him.

“I want to play, Xing Xing~”

There’s a Pepero biscuit jutting out from his lips, eyes hooded and expectant as he stares at Yixing’s.

His jaw slacks without his knowledge, a natural reaction to the sheer boldness of the situation, and Sehun leans forward to slide the biscuit into Yixing’s mouth. The sudden taste of chocolate lays on his tongue and his eyelids flutter shut, so paralyzed that he just lets Sehun munch his way up to his mouth without opposition. The hand on his neck moves to cup his cheek and he springs back to life as he feels warm air hitting his face as Sehun breathes harshly through his nose. Yixing sees Sehun’s eyelashes resting at the top of his cheeks, head turned slightly to the right and he backs away, snapping the last inch of Pepero separating them in half.

Sehun’s eyes open and he straightens up, immediately frowning as he chews idly on the pieces still in his mouth. “What’s wrong, Yixing?” he whines after swallowing. “Why did you move away?”

“Nothi –!” Yixing forgets there’s something in his own mouth and nearly chokes on the candy as it slides down his throat unexpectedly. “Nothing’s wrong, Sehun, this is just so sud–”

“You didn’t move away last time,” Sehun deadpans.

“I k-know, I know, I just –”

“You don’t want to kiss me?”

Yixing’s not really one for lying, so he keeps his mouth shut, averting eye contact as Sehun pouts at him and his face heats up.

“Why not?” Sehun asks somberly. “Don’t you like me, Hyung?”

“Of course I do,” he answers before thinking, desperately egged on by the sadness in Sehun’s voice. “I just -…we just really shouldn’t, I think –”

“But Xing Xing~” he whines again, “Sehunnie wants a kiss…”

Yixing barely has time to register the set of arms wrapped tightly around his neck before they’re pulling him down, space rapidly disappearing between their faces.

“Sehu –” Another pair of lips stills his before he can fully protest. In all honesty, he wouldn’t have meant it, anyway. The boy under him hums in satisfaction and smiles against his mouth, instantly giddy with getting his way so easily.

Yixing almost falls on top of Sehun as he’s pulled down further, and ends up plopping down beside him on the couch with his body turned uncomfortably on its side, hesitant lips still connected to Sehun’s. The maknae continues to press himself closer, biting and sucking his bottom lip as he silently begs to deepen the kiss. Yixing quickly parts his lips when he realizes what Sehun is doing, allowing Sehun’s chocolate-coated tongue to massage over his aggressively as he cards shaky fingers through his pastel pink tufts of hair.

He’s not sure how long they’ve been kissing, maybe two minutes or two hours, but every aching muscle in his body was alive and alert, itching to bend into whatever shape Sehun wanted them in. His brain, however, was rapidly shutting down with every push of Sehun’s tongue, but reminds him in a flash of where they are.

The training room. With the door wide open and a good handful of people who could walk in on them. _**Oh, FUCK**_.

It’s a struggle to will his eyes open, his body begging him not to ruin the moment it was obviously waiting too long for. “Sehun, wait,” he finally breathes out once he’s broken the kiss. Sehun’s still so close to him, chest heaving as he pants, knees pulled up and digging into his side, dainty fingers scrunched into the fabric of his shirt. He pulls back a little more, which he fully regrets once Sehun comes completely into focus. He looks absolutely drunk on something – lust, dominance, power – something that’s darkening the color of his eyes and the tint of his lips and his hair is sticking up every which way; Yixing can’t even remember snatching off the skully he was wearing all through practice, yet it was laying on the floor beside his feet. “We should stop,” he says quickly after he refocuses on why he had even pushed the boy away.

“Why?” Sehun asks as he blinks between personas, eyes blown and innocent over an all-but-naïve smirk. Being a cute little whiny brat always works on Yixing, almost as often as being an insatiable little minx does. Sehun was very good at playing both roles, too, effortlessly interchanging between the two when needed.

_Sweet. Sin. Sweet. Sin. Sugar. Spice. Sugar. Spice. Spice? Spice. Yup. Spice._ He chooses Spice. Yixing’s never done well with spice. Especially when completely sugarcoated, which was what Sehun does best.

“Why?” he asks again, moving back in, obviously to connect their lips and Yixing stupidly doesn’t move away. “Doesn’t it taste good?” He asks with a peck to the other's lips. "Don't I taste good?"

Yixing bites down on his tongue until the answer _God, yes_ dies. Instead, he chooses the smarter revision of “someone might see us, Sehun.”

The side of Sehun’s mouth turns up as he presses his tongue at the edge, glancing over his shoulder at the door. “I know,” he whispers and, yup, Yixing definitely doesn’t try to hide how hard he swallows as his mouth goes dry. “I’ll make this quick, then,” he adds with a wink, and Yixing’s not sure what he means and frankly doesn’t care as Sehun slithers back into his mouth.

He seems to tire of kissing quickly this time and decides to turn his attention to the column of Yixing’s throat. His breath hitches as Sehun runs his tongue across his Adam’s apple and tries his best not to moan too loudly when Sehun begins to suck along a shallow vein. He shivers violently and attempts to flinch away, but Sehun suddenly clambers on top of him, caging him with a firm hand on the other side of his neck and another on his shoulder. Yixing melts into the couch, closes his eyes and just submits to the maknae’s forwardness, choosing instead to concentrate on the subtle way Sehun grinds his hips into his lap and controlling the volume of his moans.

Apparently he wasn’t doing a very good job. “Shhhh,” Sehun whispers into his ear. There are fingers under his shirt that he’s just noticing, sprawled across his abdominal muscles and he immediately tensed under the tender touch. Sehun smiles against his earlobe, moving behind it to blow gently and chuckling when Yixing shudders again. “You’re so sensitive right there, Xing Xing-hyung,” he says as he pulls back. Yixing is hoping Sehun is taking mercy on him and maybe wants to just go back to kissing.

He’s wrong. So, so, soooo very wrong. Oh Sehun doesn’t do mercy. He remembers this as he feels the drawstring of his sweatpants being pulled out of its knot. He looks down, brain still too weak to confirm for itself through feeling that Sehun is indeed moving back on Yixing’s thighs to tug at his pants. His eyes lock with Sehun’s when he glances back up, which never left Yixing’s face in the first place. He was watching him, studying his face for any resistance, but Yixing’s almost certain that even if there was any in his expression, Sehun would have ignored it. Rather, he just liked looking intently young and curious, though he was nowhere nearly as clueless as he seemed.

Yixing wasn’t either, but the shallow breathing and squeak of leather couch cushions wasn’t enough to fill the awkward silence, so he parts his swollen lips and stutters out, “w-what are you doing?” It’s a dumb question, considering Sehun was now on his knees after successfully pulling Yixing’s sweatpants to the middle of his thighs. Sehun can’t resist the urge to answer in an agonizingly breathy voice.

“Relax. Your neck is just so sensitive,” he repeats with a tiny smile, “I want to know if you're sensitive anywhere else.” He runs his hands up Yixing’s thighs, bunching his underwear around his groin and it suddenly dawns on him how much his body had responded to Sehun’s little movements in his lap earlier. “Are you sensitive here?”

There’s a hand around the base of his dick, squeezing lightly, and Yixing immediately responds with a groan he tries hard to bite back.

Sehun makes a little humming sound in understanding, tugging his fingers along the shaft to the tip of before asking, “what about here?” and running his thumb hard over the clothed slit. Yixing bucks his hips up, moaning out some wrecked version of Sehun’s name that seems to please him greatly. His grin is bright and devious as Yixing allows him to pull his underwear down far enough to free him from the increasing tightness, now lying fully erect on his stomach (when did Sehun have time to push his shirt up…?).

Sehun scoots closer, licks his lips and eyes Yixing’s manhood like it’s something to eat…_Pepero, perhaps?_ His eyes shoot back up to Yixing’s face, felicitating intense eye contact as he contrasts it with a sweet smile. "I like playing with you, Xing Xing,” he whispers, wrapping his hand around Yixing’s shaft. “Does Hyung like playing with Sehunnie?”

Yixing doesn’t trust his voice not to quiver if he answers out loud, and even though he feels like his furious nod was the understatement of the goddamn year, it seems to appease Sehun nonetheless.

His grip slacks a bit as he licks a stripe up his length and purses his lips against the head while he waits for Yixing’s groan to die down. With all motion ceased, Yixing looks down at Sehun, who waits for their eyes to meet again before lapping slowly at the precum pooled in the slit and licking his lips again. “Mmmm, you taste good, Yixing...”

_This is a dream. This is a goddamn dream. This has to be a dream._ He obviously passed out from practicing too hard. Or maybe he did fall when Sehun first pulled him down and conked his head on the floor. Yup, this was definitely his imagination. Or maybe the fall killed him and this is Hell, because Yixing refuses to believe he could imagine Sehun doing and saying such incredibly filthy things.

Because he’s never ever had a single filthy thought about Oh Sehun in his life. Nope. Not at all. Nuh uh. Never… Okay, maybe once…or twice.

Yup. He’s just passed out and/or dead on the floor of the training room and stuck in Purgatory, he concludes, having this filthy hallucination he didn’t ask for.

That conclusion is ripped from his mind when he feels Sehun’s muffled moan rumble over his skin, tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he engulfs him almost completely. His head flies back, hitting against the wall with a thud, and _shit, yeah, ow_, he’s definitely alive. That definitely hurt, and this is definitely not a dream. And, oh yeah, Sehun is _definitely_ sucking his dick. Exceptionally well, too, because Yixing can’t seem to control his body anymore, choked moans tumbling from his mouth as his legs tingle and his hips twitch and his chest heaves and if he wasn’t exhausted enough before, he certainly would be after this.

He keeps his eyes on Sehun, not being able to look away as Sehun’s tiny swollen lips slide down smoothly until Sehun’s nose is hitting his stomach, the tight heat of his throat surrounding the head of his cock as he swallows around him. He pulls off quickly after a couple of seconds, coughing lightly a few times before repeating the action over & over again, keeping his face pressed against Yixing’s stomach a little bit longer each time. He’s an absolute mess; cheeks flushed so deeply they almost look red, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, and gobs of spit dribbling down his chin, staining Yixing’s sweatpants. After a few minutes he stops the agonizing torture he was creating out of deep-throating and places his palms flat on Yixing’s thighs as he bobs his head up and down quickly. These wet, gurgling sounds keep escaping from his mouth as more spit & precum leaks out from the corners and Yixing can’t tell if he’s more disgusted or turned on anymore. Sehun seems to smile around him every time Yixing moans or yanks at his hair in approval, and the absolute glee on Sehun’s usually expressionless face proves too much for him. He looks around the room, at the walls, the still wide open door, the forgotten pouch of Pepero dropped on the cushion beside him - anywhere but at Sehun’s happy little full-of-cock face.

A tiny part of Yixing is wondering where Sehun even learned to do this, another part honestly doesn’t want to know, and a majority of him doesn’t really care.

Sehun pulls off and wraps his hand around him, still sucking the head gently as he strokes him slow and deliberately, continuing to kneading his balls with his other hand. Yixing jerks in surprise when Sehun’s eyes pop open as he traces playfully over the throbbing vein along the side of his dick. He’s looking Yixing dead in the eye when he smirks and calmly says, “I want to watch you cum.”

Even if there was a proper way to respond to that statement, Yixing’s sure if wouldn’t have come out correctly if he tried to vocalize it. Sehun has his mouth back over the head of his cock, still looking up with wide-eyed fascination as Yixing’s eyes shut tightly and he buries his hands back into his hair. His hand speeds up as it glides over his shaft and his tongue is beating over his slit so impossibly fast Yixing swears he’s seeing stars.

He doesn’t dare to look down as he feels his balls tighten, but just the thought of Sehun’s messy face as he looks up wonderingly has him spilling hotly into Sehun’s mouth in a matter of seconds. He whimpers, doubling over Sehun’s head and pulling at his hair as he feels his entire body tense for a few moments as his hips buck forward, then begin to slump. He lays back, lungs expanding desperately as he catches his breath. He can feel Sehun still licking around his head and their eyes lock as soon as he lazily opens his, vision still blurred from the extreme release of tension.

Sehun’s eyes are hazed over in lust and fatigue and he pulls off, a thin trail of spit following as he tilts his head back and opens his mouth. He makes sure Yixing can clearly see his cum pooled on his tongue before he rolls it back and swallows, opening his mouth again and sticking out his tongue to show that it’s all gone.

Yup. This is Hell. Yixing is sure of it now.

He groans and snaps his eyes shut when Sehun smiles up at him after wiping his mouth and chin clean on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. _Jesus Christ, does the teasing ever stop? _

“That was fun,” Sehun beams, and Yixing thanks God that he finally dropped that sickening porn star voice. He reaches behind his back and pulls a towel from of Yixing’s bag, wiping his softened cock down before tucking him back into his briefs. He stands slowly, pulling his sweatshirt up over his head once he regains his balance and Yixing just stays put on the couch because he not quite sure what he’s supposed to do next.

Also Sehun’s pants are bulging obscenely right in his face and it’s a bit distracting, to say the least.

Sehun notices him staring at his very obvious erection and laughs, high pitched enough to startle Yixing back into reality. “Don’t worry, I can take care of that later,” he chuckles, tying the arms of the sweatshirt around his waist. He bends down to grab his skully off the ground and shoves it over his unruly hair.

Okay. Yixing can admit it. He totally looks at his ass. He even thinks about smacking it. He doesn’t.

“Unless you wanna do it for me, Xing-hyung,” Sehun prompts, turning to kiss Yixing on the cheek. His cock twitches slightly at the invitation as his face begins to redden and Sehun laughs again, smoothing down Yixing’s sweaty hair. “Not right now, though, the vans are about to leave. Come on.” Sehun looks down at Yixing’s lap, still drenched in sweat and spit and other bodily fluids that aren’t as easily to camouflage as what’s tenting his pants. “Yeaaahhhh, you should change those first, though.” He bends down once more to grab the pouch of Pepero from between the couch cushions and heads right out the door.

As Sehun’s steps disappear down the hall Yixing hears the snap of him biting into another Pepero biscuit. Of course, he’s just skipping down to the elevator carelessly, like he didn’t just suck the life out of someone’s dick. He stays slumped on the couch for a moment, then promptly slaps himself hard across the face.

_Yup, that totally hurt. You’re awake. This still isn't a dream._

He peels himself off the couch, feeling incredibly drowsy, and is pulling on a change of sweats when someone suddenly knocks at the door frame rapidly.

“Hey! Move it, dance machine, the van is about to leave!”

“Coming, Yifan-ge,” he slings his bag over his shoulder and shuts off the lights before joining his leader at the door.

“I told that lazy shit Sehun to go get you like an hour ago, did he even come?”

Yixing sputters nervously. Words are not on his side right now, so he shakes his head a few times when Yifan raises an eyebrow at him.

Yifan jogs over to kick Sehun in the ass as they’re filing into the vans. Sehun grimaces and rubs his cheek as Yifan mumbles about disobedient children while walking back over. Yixing shrugs innocently when Sehun shoots him a confused look.

They’ve only been on the road for about two minutes; riding silently enough for Yixing to shut his eyes and rest his head against his window before Jongdae’s voice booms over the radio.

“Okay, we're all thinking it so I'm gonna fucking say it...one of you definitely smells like sex.”

Minseok spits his water out all over Tao’s shoulder. Lu Han’s disturbing infectious laugh thunders over Yifan’s outburst. Yixing just bangs his head against the window. Repeatedly. _Fuckfuckfuckfuc--_


End file.
